


we are on par

by theonewiththelarrystories



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththelarrystories/pseuds/theonewiththelarrystories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5k words of rimming. sub!harry, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are on par

It was always Harry’s dirty little secret, something he kept to himself and never told anyone. Most people thought it was disgusting, unsanitary but Harry knows its not, not if you prepare correctly. The first time he found out how great it is, he was 15. He had a friend who was also gay, and they both fancied each other like mad but didn’t want to date, so they just fooled around. One weekend Harry was home alone so he invited this kid over and they went up to Harry’s bedroom. His friend had bent him right over the edge of his bed and kissed up the back of his thighs and all over his ass, stopping right at his hole. Harry tensed, because he’d seen this is so many porn videos and he knew he wanted it, so bad, but he wasn’t one hundred percent positive where his friend’s mouth was going. But then suddenly he’d licked out, a flat, wet stripe over Harry’s hole and his knees buckled wildly. It had him coming undone in minutes, reaching a hand down to grab his cock and coming into the sheets with a broken cry.   
From then on Harry was insatiable, wanting it all the time. His friend was pretty okay with that, gave it to him whenever they hooked up, and Harry thought nobody could ever be better at that than his friend, until he auditioned for X Factor the next year and met Louis.   
They became best friends and then boyfriends rather quickly, and Harry knew he could tell him absolutely anything without judgement. But still, even after they started fooling around Harry didn’t tell, afraid Louis would think he was gross. But then—then they moved on from handjobs and blowjobs, and Harry had been fingered before, plenty of times, by himself and by other guys, but this was entirely different.  
This left Harry like jello, coming so hard he saw stars. Louis was wicked with his fingers, he knew exactly how to move them to drive Harry crazy. Sometimes when Louis had his fingers in him they would kiss, and Louis was so good with his tongue that Harry couldn’t help but imagine how he would feel down there. It sent him dizzy, just thinking about it, made him crazy. He wanted it so much but didn’t know how to ask for it.   
And its not like Harry’s ever been shameless about what he wants in bed, quite the opposite, but this was his one exception—he didn’t ever ask for this even though he wanted to more than anything in the world.   
Somehow the topic came up one time while they were kissing on the couch, Louis’ hands down Harry’s pants and Harry working his arse over Louis’ cock. Louis had pulled away, looking at him cautiously.   
“I want to do something,” he’d said carefully, gauging Harry’s reaction.   
“Okay,” Harry said, unblinking.   
“Have you ever—” Louis started, scrunching his face up and stroking his hands up Harry’s back, under his shirt. “Have you ever been eaten out?”   
Harry’s eyes had gone wide and his body taught, trembling. “Yeah,” he’d breathed quietly, hoping desperately that Louis would do it.   
“Did you like it?” Louis asked.   
Harry shivered. “Yeah,” he said again, quiet, blushing a little.   
“Can I? I really want to.”   
Harry nodded once, quick and sure. Louis had smiled and Harry rushed to scramble off his lap, stripping his clothes off hastily, shoving his jeans and briefs down so they pooled around his ankles, too impatient to get them all the way off. He bent himself over the edge of the sofa, presenting his bum to Louis.   
“Jesus,” Louis had whistled, coming in close. The feeling of Louis’s hot breath against his hole made Harry’s eyelids flutter. The first swipe of his tongue was better than anything Harry’d ever felt, made starts burst behind his eyes and his muscles shake, sending him into a frenzy. Harry had never met someone who was so good at it before, who liked doing it so much. He was astounded, bewildered at how good it was. He could barely process it.   
That first time was beyond anything Harry could have ever imagined, so overwhelming he came almost minutes later, rutting against the back of the sofa. He’d stayed like that for awhile, breathing heavily into the cushions, Louis pressed close behind him, running his hands soothingly up and down his back and kissing his shoulder, murmuring quietly to him. When Harry had finally pulled himself up he threw himself at Louis, kissing him feverishly, fisting his hands in his shirt and moaning. Louis was a little taken aback but went with it, kissed him back, tugged on his hair with his hands and his lip with his teeth.   
After Harry had sucked him off and they were sprawled on the couch together, Louis was so sweet to him, stroking his hair and kissing his forehead, eventually dozing off with a hand on Harry’s lower back. But Harry was fidgety, mind racing, wondering how he hadn’t known Louis was so amazing, into it too, and wondering if he’d do it as often as that friend back in high school or if it was a special occasion thing. Finally, he got so worked up just thinking about it, replaying it over in his mind that he snuck off to the bathroom and got one hand on his cock, three fingers of the other inside himself.   
He was shy about it, after that, tried to drop hints that he wanted it again without coming out and saying that he wanted it again. Sometimes Louis would do it, when he was fingering him, or if he was blowing him he’d drop his mouth down lower, and each time was better than the last. It wasn’t until they finally had sex, really went all the way that they talked about it.   
They already had a basic understanding of what the other liked, but after that one time Harry was blowing him and Louis had slipped, told him he was doing such a good job and Harry had come immediately at the words, moaning brokenly around Louis’ cock and shuddering that Louis decided they needed to talk about it.  
“So you like… being praised.” Louis said, choosing his words carefully.   
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, blushing. “I like when—I like to be told I’m doing good, or like—I’m a good boy.”   
Louis sucked in a breath. It was the good boy part that got him. “Okay, yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah. What—what else?”   
“Um—you can, you can be—you can be rough with me, too, I like that—” Harry squirmed, tugging on Louis’ t-shirt. “I like to be used, like—as long as you tell me that I’m—that I’m good, after, or during, just—as long as you hold me after, then its—I like that.”   
Louis felt himself getting hard and tried to shift away from Harry just a little so he wouldn’t feel it. “I can—I can do that, I can definitely do that.”   
“I don’t like it all the time, but—I like it a lot, I—I really like it, but I also want you to—to love me, too, sometimes I want to be loved—” Harry said, getting a little more confident. He sucked in a deep breath, flicking his eyes up to meet Louis’ before dropping them again, just as fast. “I want—I really like when you, um, put your—your mouth down there, I really—I love that, I really love that, its my favorite.”   
“Fuck Haz, thats so hot,” Louis mumbled, crowding him, kissing him heavily.   
“Really?” Harry had breathed, surprised by Louis’ reaction.   
“Yes, holy shit, its so hot, can I do that—can I do that right now, can I eat you out? Shit, Harry, I really want to.”   
Harry had whimpered, then, nodded so eagerly Louis worried for a minute he might get whiplash. “Yes,” he panted, so hard too, “yes, god, please.”   
From then on Harry was shameless about it, had no problem coming up behind Louis in the kitchen, kissing his neck. “Want your mouth, your tongue, please,” he’d murmur, and Louis would turn around, bend him over the counter and give him exactly what he wanted.   
It becomes so regular, a part of their routine, when Harry gets stressed or can’t sleep a way to relax him, or if he’s desperate and needy, begging, Louis will spread his legs and nuzzle in, doing what he does best, making Harry moan. Harry loves it, loves it so much, and Louis knows it feels good but he doesn’t really know exactly why Harry loves it the way he does.   
Once, face buried between Harry’s legs, he asks him about it. “Why do you like it so much?” He mumbles and his voice vibrates against Harry’s skin.   
Harry inhales sharply, knotting his fingers in Louis’ hair. “Lou—” he pants.   
“I wanna know why you love it as much as you do,” Louis says, swirling his tongue in tight circles.   
“Fuck, fuck, I love it, I love it—”  
“I know you do, baby, but why?”   
“I can’t, I can’t—” Harry pants, grinding his hips up. “Fuck Lou, please just don’t stop, you can’t, I need it, need it so bad,”   
Louis flicks his tongue over him again, in the practiced way he knows Harry loves. “But why?” He presses a few minutes later, pulling away for some air.   
“I don’t know,” Harry whines, high pitched. “It just fucking feels good—”   
“I know, baby, I know it does.”   
“It feels so good, Lou, I love it, I love it so much it’s so good, oh my god—” he’s sobbing now, which isn’t unusual, fisting his hands tight in the sheets and arching his back, bucking up against Louis’ face. Louis just lets him, strokes down his thighs and licks over his hole in wide stripes, nudging the tip of his tongue in. “Please, please, please—” Harry’s saying, tears running down his face and dripping onto the sheets.   
Louis pulls away for just a second, kissing Harry’s skin tenderly. “Just take deep breaths, angel.” He nuzzles back in, spreading Harry out with his thumbs and licking inside him in quick, short strokes, incessant.   
“Oh god, oh god, Lou, I can’t—its so good, its so fucking good, please, please—” Harry bucks his hips erratically, desperate, the salt of his tears itching his face but he can’t focus on anything but Louis’ tongue on him, in him, driving him crazy.   
“You’re a good boy, you’re such a good boy, so good for me, taste so good,” Louis mumbles against him, his raspy voice sending Harry buzzing.   
“Lou—” he squeaks, clenching his eyes shut tight and biting down on his lip.   
“Yeah, you’re so fucking good, my good boy, aren’t you? You’re my good boy.”   
“Louis, shit, please, please please please, I can’t, I can’t—fuck, Lou, please, I—” Louis just nods, presses even closer, bringing a hand up to cup Harry’s balls and he flicks his tongue, over and over, unrelenting, holding Harry’s hip down with his other hand to keep him from jerking his hips up. He wants to hold him down, force him to take it, just feel it, have no option but to take it, no possible way out.   
“Do you want more?” he asks, but he’s not sure what more even is, not sure what he’ll do if Harry says yes.   
“I—fuck, I don’t know, I can’t—fuck, Lou, just—please, fucking please—” he just whimpers instead, bringing a hand up to bite his knuckles, keep from losing it. “Fuck, I love it, fuck fuck—holy shit, oh my god, its so good, you’re so good at this, I can’t, I can’t—”   
“You’re being so good baby, so good, you’re such a good boy, so fucking good at taking my tongue, you love it so much, don’t you?”   
Harry whines, long and high in the back of his throat, toes curling. “Oh god oh god—Lou, fuck, you know I do, fuck,” He bucks his hips up again and Louis presses down hard on his hip, pushing him into the mattress.   
“Stay still, love, be good for me, don’t you wanna be good for me?”   
“Fuck, yes—” Harry groans, fisting a hand in Louis’ hair. “Shit, yeah, wanna be a good boy, wanna be your good boy—”   
Louis muffles a groan in Harry’s thigh, biting it and sucking a mark into his skin. He drags his lips back down to Harry’s hole, nipping at his rim gently. “Fuck, you’re good,” he says as he sweeps his tongue over him in a broad stripe, “my good baby.”   
Harry whimpers, the muscles in his legs tensing as he tries not to move, to stay still, stay good. “Yes, Lou, fuck, I wanna be good for you, I’m trying, trying so hard, I wanna be good so bad.”   
“I know sweetheart, I know you’re trying, you’re doing such a good job, you are, you’re amazing, always so well behaved for me.” Louis spreads him open again, tilting his hips up for better access. He nudges his tongue inside, teasing him, licking him open slowly.   
“Yeah, yeah, fuck, I wanna please you, so bad, wanna please you—”   
“I know darling, its so lovely.”   
Harry squirms helplessly as Louis pushes his tongue just a little further, rubbing circles into the soft skin of his arse with the pads of his thumbs. “Yeah, wanna please you, make you happy, all the time, just wanna make you happy, make you proud of me,” his breath hitches in his throat and he stutters, struggling to inhale. “Just want you to be proud of me—” he chokes out, tugging hard on Louis’ hair.   
“I am sweetheart, so proud of you, all the time, you make me so happy, you know you do,” Louis soothes, licking around Harry’s hole in wide, sloppy circles, gradually tightening them until his tongue is pressing back inside again.   
“Lou, Lou—I, please, I need—want—”   
“What do you need, babe?”   
“Fuck, can I—” Harry stammers, tilting his chin up towards the ceiling, biting his lip. “I need to touch myself, please Lou, please,”   
Louis hums against him, knowing exactly what it does to him. “No, I don’t think so,” he says after a long moment, flattening his tongue. “Not yet.”   
Harry sobs, scrubbing hastily at his tears, quickly slamming his hand back down onto the mattress when Louis licks inside him. “Please Louis, please, I need to, please let me touch my cock, please—”   
Louis considers, letting time stretch on, knowing the minutes must seem endless to Harry, who’s putting up a valiant effort to not whine and twist around on the bed, and failing. “Do you need to come?” Louis asks, biting at him gently.   
Harry sobs again, hand fluttering toward his cock before he wrenches it away. “Yes, oh god, yes, please, so bad, I need it, I need to come, so bad, please, oh god—” Louis just makes a quiet noise and says nothing, keeps flicking his tongue and stroking Harry’s thighs. “Please Lou, please,” Harry continues to beg, shameless. “Please let me come, please let me come, I need it, I need it so bad, I need to come, please, I need to come—”   
Louis kisses his hole sweetly, smiling against him. Teasingly, he runs a finger up the underside of Harry’s cock, so light, making him shudder and jerk. “Do you really need to come?”   
“Oh god, oh god, please Lou, please, I need it so bad, please let me come, I have to come, I really do, I really need to come, I—fuck, please, oh god, please Lou, I’ll do anything, I swear I’ll do anything, just please let me come.”   
Louis takes pity on him, taking Harry’s cock in his hand fully, stroking him roughly and licking inside him mercilessly, free hand pressed down hard on Harry’s inner thigh. “Okay,” he murmurs, “you can come.”   
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Harry splutters, writhing helplessly on the bed. He only lasts three more strokes before he’s coming, spilling messily over Louis’ fist and his own belly, moaning brokenly. Louis licks him through it, holding his trembling thighs and keeping him from twisting away. He doesn’t let up, not until Harry’s sobbing in earnest again, begging, trying to push him away. “Lou, I can’t—I can’t, it hurts, I—”   
Finally Louis stops, lifting his head and kissing up Harry’s thighs, peppering his belly and chest with kisses until he reaches his neck. He kisses his collarbone tenderly before pulling Harry to him, ignoring the mess on his stomach. Harry clings on, sniffling into the crook of his neck, shivering. Louis waits, stroking down his back, kissing his hair, just holding him close, soothing. It takes Harry awhile to come back but Louis feels it when he does, the shift in his body and the subtle change in his breathing.   
“You alright?” he murmurs quietly, keeping Harry’s head pressed down to his chest so he doesn’t feel like he has to move, knowing that what he needs is to be still for awhile, comforted.   
“Yeah,” Harry says after a moment, breathing hotly against Louis’ skin. “I think I’m okay.”   
Louis kisses his forehead, gentle. “Alright, just stay here for a minute, just lie with me.” Harry makes a grateful noise and Louis keeps him pressed close, strokes his hair while he talks quietly into it. “You were such a good boy Haz, I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, keeping his voice quiet and low, tender. He talks differently afterwards, takes on a different tone so Harry will calm down rather than get worked up. A lot of times Louis will say the same thing but the words will have the opposite affect on Harry than before, they settle and comfort him rather than get his heart beating erratically. He does that now, stroking Harry’s skin with soft fingertips, centering him with his touch and his voice. “So good for me, just like always.”   
“I was good Lou, I really was?” Harry says, and even though Louis’ been praising him so much, he still needs that reassurance, insecurity edging in. He just wants so badly to please Louis, make him happy, he wants it so bad, all the time.  
Louis knows it too. “Of course you were darling, you always are. You’re so good, baby, you’re always so good for me.” Harry relaxes then, shifts a little, moves to rest his head over Louis’ heart. He lets out a happy little sigh as Louis continues. “You make me so happy, being such a good boy all the time, listening so well. You’re so lovely, Harry.” He says and Harry tries not to squirm and grin like crazy, because thats his favorite, when Louis tells him he’s lovely, he doesn’t know why, but it just gets to him.   
“Thank you,” he whispers, kissing Louis’ chest. “Thank you, Lou, I love you.” He always feels the need to thank Louis after they do this, because he loves it so much and he knows Louis doesn’t really get any pleasure from it. He gets off on it, but it doesn’t bring him an physical pleasure Harry knows, so he’s always sure to show his gratitude.   
“Of course, sweetheart. I love you too, you know that.” Harry hums quietly, eyelashes fluttering against Louis’ skin. “You’re tired now, bub, aren’t you, why don’t you go to sleep?” Louis suggests and Harry sighs gratefully, nodding.   
“Okay, I’ll just take a little rest,” He mumbles, already drifting off. “Just a little one, and then I’ll be all better.”   
Louis just smiles and tells him to sleep for as long as he needs, rubbing down his spine until he feels Harry go boneless. He doesn’t sleep though, instead his mind is wandering, flitting from one idea to the next quickly.   
Of course he’s always known how much Harry likes this, but only recently he’s started wondering about it, really trying to get at the reasoning behind it. He knows its more than just the fact that it feels good, because there are so many other things that Harry likes that feel good but he doesn’t go as crazy for them as he does for this. It’s been a distant nagging in the back of his mind but now he really wants to know, needs to know, almost.   
He tries asking him again, brining it up in casual conversation. They’re just sat on the couch together and Louis asks, expecting a coherent answer. But instead Harry just shuts down, blushing furiously tugging on the hemline of his shirt.  
“I don’t—I don’t know,” he stammers, and its so easy to see its a lie. “I just like it, is all, its just—its nice.”   
Louis pushes, because thats what he does. “Its more than that,” he says, “you can tell me.”   
Harry shakes his head, refuses to make eye contact. “It just feels good,” he chokes out, “it just makes me feel good, thats all.”   
He doesn’t say anything more about it, changing the subject. Louis lets it drop for awhile, doesn’t ask, but every time he has his head between Harry’s legs he wonders, and the wondering and the wanting gets stronger as the days pass.   
He tries not to ask while they’re doing it, because he knows Harry will never be able to get out an answer, but once, with his hands spreading him out and Harry’s face buried in a pillow, he can’t resist.   
“Why, Hazza?” he says, and Harry freezes, instantly knowing what Louis means.   
“Louis, please,” he whines, wriggling around. “I just—just give it to me, I don’t want—we can—just, please—”   
Louis’ impatient now, a little fed up, too, tired of Harry’s constant dodging of his questions. “Just tell me,” he says, going the threatening route. “Just tell me and I’ll do it.”   
“No,” Harry whimpers, biting at the pillow and trying to push back against Louis’ face. He feels so exposed, so vulnerable like this, bum up in the air. And its not even the position thats doing it, its the question, Louis’ obvious need for an answer. “Louis, come on, please,”   
Louis comes closer, lets his hot breath wash over Harry’s skin. He kisses him, gentle, all over his skin, the swell of his arse. “Just tell me,” he says, and his voice is soft. “I wanna know, Hazza, just tell me.”   
Harry breathes heavily through his nose, letting the silence stretch between them. “It just feels good,” he sobs as Louis gets impatient, leaning in again and licking over him, quick. Harry’s knees buckle and he’s talking now, words spilling out and getting muffled in the pillow beneath him. “It feels good, Lou, it feels so good, your tongue, your mouth, you’re so good, its so good, feels so good,” he whines, rearing back against Louis. “God, its so amazing, you just—you do it whenever I want you to, you always do, and you—you like to, fuck, you—you enjoy it, I can’t—” He moans brokenly as Louis dips his tongue inside, pulling him apart with his thumbs. “You love me, you love me, it just—it shows that you love me, I need that, I need it, I need—”   
Louis hums, nips at his rim gently. He smooths his hands up Harry’s backside, gripping his hips and pulling him back against him. He pulls away, just for a second. “Its okay, you’re fine,” he soothes, kissing up his spine. When he reaches the back of Harry’s neck he bites at his ear, palming Harry’s ass. Rolling onto his back, he beckons for Harry to come to him. “Let me take care of you,” he says as Harry shifts, straddling his chest and then moving up, positioning himself over Louis’ face and gripping onto the headboard. Louis grabs onto his thighs, pulls him down. “Let me love you now, let me show you.”   
Harry whines, trying not to put too much weight on him, tossing his head back and moaning. Its so good, sitting like this, Louis’ tongue on him feeling so amazing, getting in him so deep, getting him wet with spit, sloppy and incredible. He loves this, sitting on Louis’ face like this but Louis rarely lets him do it, only on special occasions when he’s been really good. He moans at the thought, that Louis’s rewarding him, that this is a reward. He rocks back onto Louis’ tongue, supporting himself on the headboard.   
He comes quickly, Louis reaching a hand up to stroke his cock. He shudders and lifts himself off, leaning forward, extremely careful not to hurt Louis but Louis just follows him, licking him through it, holding tightly onto his thighs. When it gets too much he slips himself out from under Harry, sitting up and covering one hand thats still wrapped tight around the headboard with his own, kissing the side of his neck.   
Harry’s shaking with the aftershocks and his hand trembles when he reaches for Louis cock, slumping against his chest. He tugs him off quickly, hand caught between them as he swipes his thumb over Louis’ slit in quick movements. Louis keeps a hand pressed to Harry’s lower back, kissing his temple and bucking into his fist when he comes, breathing heavily. Harry strokes him through it, eventually falling completely against Louis’ chest, knocking him over, back into the sheets.   
They lay there together, on sweat damp bedclothes, chests heaving and hearts beating quickly, loudly in their ears. Neither of them can really talk and they’re both so breathless, clutching onto each other until the sheen of sweat covering their skin dries and they get a little chilly, pulling a sheet up over them. They sleep, heavy and sound, and when they finally wake up hours later, Harry tugs them into the shower with a grimace.   
Louis waits until the water has washed all the grossness off of them and takes Harry’s hands, kissing his knuckles. “Tell me,” he says and Harry does.   
“It shows—it shows me how much you care about me, that you do that for me, all the time. Its—its just so, so intimate and—and I don’t think you do it unless you care about someone, and you just—you care about me, so much, enough to do that for me, because I love it so much, and it just—it reminds me how much you love me and how much you want me and—thats all I’ve ever wanted, is for you to love me, and I—”   
Louis kisses him, cupping his jaw in both hands. Harry flounders around for a second, caught off guard before he kisses him back, desperate and wanting. “I love you,” Louis whispers when he finally pulls away, breathless.   
Louis gets a little obsessed, after that, and it makes him think, really consider. He’s always known the depth of his love for Harry, how deep it runs. He’d do absolutely anything for Harry, go to the ends of the earth to make him happy. The grandest of gestures, the most extreme show of affection--he’d do it. He finds it a little funny that something so simple could make Harry so happy.   
Louis loves it, even more so now that he knows the meaning behind it; he can’t get enough. He loves that by doing this for Harry he’s simultaneously showing him how much he cares about him, how important to him he is. Its a little thing, but it means so much to Harry, makes him absolutely glow afterwards.   
So Louis’ obsessed, obsessed with the way Harry sounds, the way he looks, the way he reacts. Its his favorite thing in the world now, and Harry’s happy, so happy, because he gets to feel this good even more often than he used to, physically and emotionally. Louis’ happy too, because he gets to make Harry feel good, which has always been his favorite thing.   
They’re even more inseparable than before, absolutely attached at the hip, can barely keep their hands off each other. No one else understands but that makes it better, because this is their thing, all theirs, the secret thing that makes them both so happy.   
And its still Harry’s dirty little secret but he’s not ashamed of it anymore, not that its out there finally, that he knows it makes Louis just as happy as it makes him. He feels likes he’s constantly grinning, and its silly and ridiculous that this kind of happiness comes from something so little, as trivial as a sex act, but he supposes its fitting. Its just like them to make the little things into the bigger things, really make them count, and its always been this way and honestly, ridiculousness aside--Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
